


throw me in the landfill

by KingLear



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Choking, Decapitation, End of Act Six: [S] Collide, Fraymotifs, Gen, Graphic Violent Scenes, M/M, Self-Hatred, im being serious this is literally my canon self-hatred dump of dirk strider, timetravel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 16:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6477703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingLear/pseuds/KingLear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk's final thoughts at the battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	throw me in the landfill

You looked at your ecto-bro, with his shitty sword ready at his side, his eyebrows furrowed as he (un)subtly tried to gulp in deep breaths of air as he inspected at the mess you'd gotten yourself into. The crowbar that Jack held to your neck suffocated each dying breath that tried to escape from your lips as you desperately tried to struggle free from his grasp. 

You caught Dave's eye from his glasses as he lifted his shitty glinting sword high, he gave you an inquiring look that both of you'd gotten to the same answer to the question of. You'd smirk and give a smartass comment that he'd surely have an answer to; if it weren't for the crowbar suffocating your throat, inhibiting every breath that was dying to escape from your mouth. 

Instead, you give a minute nod so as to not alert either Jack nor Slick of the decision that both of you had made. Both of them remained oblivious to your Strider bro swiftly making his way towards all three of you. 

You close your eyes and tried to relax the incessant thumping of your heart.  _Calm the fuck down, Dirk._ _You've done this before._ And wasn't it a treat that you were going to do it again? You've never been much of a believer of karma but you can't help but think that this yours. You remembered the days before you'd entered the session with your other three pals and tried to think about how badly you'd screwed over all of them. 

You thought of Lalonde and how much she doted on you, _what a waste,_ you think with a stone in your stomach. You could have helped her realise that she was important and that she was the glue of all four of your friendships instead of wallowing in self-pity and being obsessed with being unhealthily unemotional. Regrets pour out like tears that you are unwilling to ever shed and you cling tight to the comforting suffocation of the crowbar with your fingers clenched tight around the unyielding metal. 

You think about Jane next, the Crocker heiress with her weird little quirks that fundamentally fit her into the dysfunctional quartet that you all were a part of. How many times have you unintentionally disregarded her? Placed her on a lower stool than yourself, when she was so much better than you could ever dream of being? Unknowingly stolen her chance of being with Jake, when they could have fit together so much better than your farce of a "relationship". You take your barely quiet breaths as you think about Jake. You wish you never told him about your feelings. You can barely stand to talk nevertheless look at each other without feeling a monsoon of utter dread and awkwardness now. It's all your fault, if you'd never revealed your feelings, he'd never have felt pressurised to kiss your decapitated head so as to revive you.

You know that even though your friends and your new pals are too kind to say it, you are just in the simplest of words, a monster. You've always been a wreck, ruining relationships, friendships and everything good that's ever happened to you. You think of Dave and how much of an  _awful_ guardian you were, how much of a sociopathic and ill-considerate piece of  _shit_ you were to Dave. He'd never done anything to deserve it so what gave you the right to dish out such a lifestyle to him?

You swallowed your last few breaths and opened your orange eyes that were blurring either from the lack of oxygen or the tears that you were trying to willfully hold back.

Just in time to feel the sharp blade of Dave's sword slice your head from your body.

You don't feel anything ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> so um this was a thing i cam eup with literally an hour ago. hopefully i wrote them in somewhat character????? i dont know lmao. unedited. okay, plus: this is basically my theory that Dirk's death was heroic and that because Dirk's unbreakable sword broke, which is basically his soul in a way, it would have some sort of more permanent affect to him? im sorry i just love torturing my gay baby son.


End file.
